


My Sweater Is Better Than Yours

by FreckledSkittles



Series: 2019 SVU Advent Calendar [23]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, First Kiss, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mike Dodds Lives, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, and he deserved better i miss: him, we love boyfriends who wear the same thing without planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledSkittles/pseuds/FreckledSkittles
Summary: Day 23 of Advent Calendar Writing Prompts.Sonny and Mike wear the same sweater to the Christmas party and make out. That's it, that's the fic.
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Mike Dodds
Series: 2019 SVU Advent Calendar [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559359
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	My Sweater Is Better Than Yours

**Author's Note:**

> So uhhhh don't worry about how late this is please and thank you I have no excuse except that I am a F O O L and got bad writer's block for this story :( but rest assured: if you read your fics over, you can find the problem with them and get through it ;)
> 
> Or, y'know, just add an extra scene where Dorisi makes out hahaaaaa
> 
> I used four separate Tumblr posts to find prompts for this event. The prompt for this story is: A competition for cringiest christmas sweater at an office party, in which your otp comes wearing the same sweater. You can find the prompt [here](https://a-cure-for-writers-block.tumblr.com/post/181248792109/otp-christmas-scenarios-that-are-sort-of-original)!

“I’m on the nice list.’ Nice one, Carisi.”

Sonny grins before he turns around and is faced with a smirking Mike Dodds. The rumor had been traveling quick across the bullpen filled for their holiday party that Sonny and Sarge were wearing matching tacky sweaters. Sonny had picked his out because of the ones he had seen, it was the one with the most taste: black with bright red and white text reading “I’m on the nice list,” under a picture of a smiling Pikachu, and complete with a decorative border of tiny Christmas trees, candy canes, and Pokéballs framing the rest of the design. Maybe that doesn’t have a lot of meaning, in comparison to other shirts, but he had seen some that were absolutely horrid and hurt his eyes just thinking about them. “I didn’t know you were into Pokemon, Sarge,” Sonny says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Mike chuckles and rolls his shoulders, looking down at the sweater fondly. “I was probably a little older than you when it came out, but my brother wanted to play so we could trade Pokemon.” His smile grows wider at the memory. “And then I got hooked.”

Sonny’s smile grows. “Okay, now I’m sure you’re copying me.” His heart leaps when Mike tilts his head, a puzzled look appearing on his face and making him look more like a puppy. “My sister Bella wanted me to play it with her. It’s one of the things that made us so close.”

Mike squints at him, still smiling. “I think I’m older, so wouldn’t that make you the copycat?”

“Nah, flawed logic.” Sonny grins when Mike laughs and shakes his head. It’s a good thing he came to terms with his crush six months ago and has better control over how he physically responds to Mike’s expressions.

The Crush had happened suddenly. One day, Sonny had been chatting with his Sergeant, a superior technically, and the next he was studying which tie and shirt combination would best grab his attention. Touches became more of a lingering contact with hurried glances and less of an accident that warranted apologies. For Sonny, there was some return of the light butterflies in his stomach, but he didn’t know to what extent. And he wasn’t about to make a move on a fellow officer who also functioned as a second-in-command.

“Which starter did you choose?” Sonny asks.

“Charmander,” Mike replies. “But when it’s my first time playing, I pick the grass starter.”

Sonny guffaws at that. “How many times do you play?”

He shrugs. “Three times for each starter. And usually, I’ll have a different method each time I play through it. My first time playing is mostly me figuring out how to play the game. Then I’ll take my time finding all the Pokémon I can or having one Poké per type.” As if sending how much he’s revealed, Mike looks away and laughs nervously. “I think I got into it more than my brother did.”

“Maybe just a little,” Sonny teases. He feels brave when he reaches over and pokes his shoulder, but his stomach seizes when Mike makes eye contact. “I think it’s admirable.”

It sounded lame to say, and Sonny resists a shiver afterward. But it was better than saying it was cute, which he would have preferred if they were more open with each other. At least Mike smiles shyly, a pretty red coating his cheeks.

Sonny clears his throat and straightens up. “So, ah…” He nearly loses the words he wants to utter. Mike’s brown eyes are wide and soft, fondness creeping in around the edges and making them catch the dim lights overhead. It looks like he got caught up in the emotions whirling inside him, because he’s staring right at Sonny with such kindness, with so much affection, that Sonny almost can’t believe he earned such a reaction. If anything, he would have expected that from himself, especially with all the daydreaming he does that include Mike, whether he means to or not. Sonny brings himself back to reality with a soft exhale. “Are you entering the tacky sweater competition?”

“I am,” Mike says. “Are you?”

Sonny nods, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. “Yep. Looks like you’re gonna have some tough competition.”

“I dunno, I might have you beat.”

Sonny chuckles. “Oh really? What makes you say that?”

Mike smiles, soft and slow and easing into a comfortable expression that Sonny can’t help but read as flirtatious. “Because my sweater is better than yours.”

The laugh Sonny makes isn’t exactly pretty, but it makes Mike look away and take a long sip of his drink. “Oh, of course. I mean, if we’re talking about who wore it better, then it’d be you.” Mike’s eyebrows raise at that; Sonny wants to bite his tongue. “Er, y’know, like People Magazine? Who wore it better?”

Mike makes a noncommittal sound, more of interest than as an answer, and glances up at him. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” For a second, there’s a flutter of emotions crossing over his expression and blooming between them. The same energy as the smile he had shared just minutes before. The same one Sonny has seen thrown his way when there were conversations reserved for the two of them. “I don’t agree with it though.”

Sonny swallows and steps closer. Mike’s eyes swim in deep swirls of chocolate mocha, flickering down to and zoning in on his lips. “Agree with what?”

“Your synopsis on who wore it better.” Mike tugs on the hem of his sweater. Sonny wishes it was pulling on his. Just a few inches and he could curl his fingers around it, knuckles brushing over pale muscle, just above his navel and his belt buckle. “I don’t think I wore it best.”

Shit. Sonny watches Mike’s free hand drop from his sweater. Sonny itches to reach forward and tangle their fingers together just to see how warm the taller man is. “Who wore it best then?”

Someone at the front of the room, close to the main entrance, announces that entries for the sweater competition are open. Both Sonny and Mike look in that direction, but Mike turns back first, looking up and down at Sonny’s sweater. The gaze leaves a trail of searing fire in its wake, blazing over his skin and sizzling in his gut. Sonny suddenly doesn’t want to enter the squad’s competition. The judge he wants to see his sweater is standing right in front of him.

“Are you gonna enter?” Mike asks.

“I don’t know anymore,” Sonny states. He keeps his voice as neutral as he can in case Mike isn’t as interested as he thinks. Just in case he’s been misinterpreting their interactions this entire time and needs to have a cover. “I was having a nice conversation with someone.”

“I overheard it. Excuse my nosiness.” Mike winks when he laughs under his breath. “I’d ask if he wants to talk in private with him, but I don’t wanna be rude.”

Sonny’s stomach flips at the discreet offer and he finds himself nodding before he can even think of a response. His mouth can’t move fast enough to give him a verbal response, so he lets his expression do the work: open and willing and eager. The only way he could ever ask.

* * *

Sonny throws Mike against the door of the crib to close the door and kisses him. His hands grapple over his shoulders and pull at his sweater insistently. The party can keep the rest of the precinct occupied; Sonny has more important things to be concerned about. Like where Mike’s hands are, the fact that he keeps on roving over his sides and stomach, the soft hums he makes as Sonny molds his mouth over his and tilts his head for the perfect angle. It feels enchanting to stand here and melt gradually into Mike’s arms, swimming in his affection.

With a soft grunt, Sonny juts his knee out so he can make contact with the soft bulge in Mike’s pants. The sound that escapes from the taller man is guttural and desperate, and Sonny swallows it eagerly. It seems right; there’s nothing better than taking as much of this man as he can. 

Mike moves back with a gasp mixed into a whine and presses their foreheads together. “God,” he breathes out, “you’re good at this.”

Sonny grins and pecks the tip of his nose. “So are you.” He raises his leg a bit more into him, just a bit more pressure against him, and Mike throws his head back. “Hmm. And you make nice sounds too.”

“God.” Mike shuts his eyes. “You might be out to kill me.”

He lets out a small chuckle and presses a soft kiss into his neck, just the slightest pressure against his skin. Sonny doesn’t make a move until he receives confirmation that he’s made the right choice, which comes in the form of a pleased sigh. And once he does, Mike’s body leaning firmer against the door, Sonny honors the sturdy column of his neck. Each breath flutters under his lips in perfect time with Sonny’s slowly rising motion. His lips leave small marks of saliva on Mike’s neck, thin enough to be missed but prominent enough to be seen in the proper light.

Sonny is glad they’re confined to this room, just so he can be the only one who lays eyes on that sight.

“You know,” Sonny muses into his neck, eyeing the curve of his jaw and the swoop of his chin with such ferocity, there’s no way Mike doesn’t recognize it, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a really long time.”

“Yeah?” The amused smile is heard clear and loud in his voice. “Is that what I’ve been feeling this whole time?”

Sonny chuckles. “Maybe. I hope I wasn’t that obvious.”

“I like the attention.” Sonny looks up just in time to watch the smile rise on Mike’s face, lighting up his eyes and bringing such a warm bout of fondness in Sonny’s chest that he wants to sear the image into his memory. There truly can be nothing greater than such an expression. “And you might have felt the same exact thing from me.”

“Ohh. I thought that was something else.”

Mike shakes his head affectionately. His hands land on Sonny’s waist but jolt away as if scalded by fire. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted me to touch you there.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Sonny helps guide his hands back and he leans forward so that they’re chest to chest. Mike curls his fingers against his hips, not unlike a cat pleased with his spot. “I wanna feel you everywhere.”

Mike strokes the single sliver of skin peeking out from his sweater. “So do I. But I don’t think that would be appropriate in this room.”

Sonny’s cheeks flush. His mind hops into overdrive to depict the scene of Mike sprawled underneath him, holding him as he pummels into him, or Sonny leaning against his back and sliding into his warm, tight heat. Sonny can feel his brain short circuit, and he surges forward for another kiss, this one with more bite. Mike’s hands gravitate up his sides to grip his arms, bringing them closer and dragging Sonny further into him. Mike feels so solid, so firm and comforting beneath Sonny’s touch. It’s the type of sensation he could only wish for, and the thought of having it all to himself makes his stomach churn with giddiness. “Fuck.”

Mike grins. “Your mouth is filthy. Good.”

Sonny groans and nudges his knee once more against his crotch, watching Mike bend his head back and gasp. “Please. I need to have you.”

A bit of composure, and one last kiss that overflows with warmth, and Mike straightens up against the door. “Alright. Uh, gimme ten minutes and I can drive us back to my place.” Mike clears his throat and adjusts his sweater with a nervous chuckle. “Only if you want me to. Obviously. You aren’t, y’know, obligated. But I’d like it. If you want it.”

Sonny grabs his face and kisses him into silence. He could only hope he gets to do that again, if only so Mike could return the favor. Especially if they were going to wear the same sweater to the same office party. “I’d love it.”

Mike smiles. They take a bit longer to get to the car, but Sonny doesn’t mind. (And neither does the hickey hidden right under his collar.)

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, the next one will be coming out soon! (Ideally, it'll be before the end of the year but honestly at the rate I'm going, who's to say when it'll happen)
> 
> But when it does, it'll be Barisi banter for sure! Featuring lapsed Catholicism and dedicated Rafael...


End file.
